


A Turtle Named Jisung🐢

by noonetofangirlwith



Category: K-pop, Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Anxiety, Depression, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, I don't know, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Self-Harm, This is not how you tag, and they don't know each other, and they meet under... let's say unfortunate circumstances, how do you tag, minsung be highschool students, nothing too graphic though, seriously though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2019-11-25 21:00:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18171398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noonetofangirlwith/pseuds/noonetofangirlwith
Summary: The turtles had been stupid. They had been a way Jisung got kids to break bad habits and form good ones.  "The turtle gets sad if you hit your sister," and "The turtle needs vegetables to be a healthy turtle, won't you eat them for him?" Minho wasn’t a little kid, but the turtles helped him. At least for a little while.





	1. A Crown for Bella

Jisung had been in a shitty mood until he went down to the kindergarten that day. His teacher had called in sick, and the school hadn’t been able to get a substitute in time, so they had been given permission to do their work wherever they wanted to. A couple of students made their way to the library, but most of his classmates immediately left school grounds – it was a double lesson, and with lunch next on the schedule, they were left with a big chunk of free time. Jisung considered working with an assignment due at the end of the week but quickly decided not to and took the five-minute walk down to the kindergarten.

They hadn’t been expecting him, he usually only came during his free periods on Wednesdays, and when he had short days every other Friday. Him being there on a Tuesday was unheard of.

The kids were over the moon to see him, and he had barely stepped inside before a bunch small hands were pulling at him, trying to include him in some game or another. He felt better already. He carefully removed himself from their grasps, promising them he would be with them in a moment. He made his way to the other side of the room, where a woman in her forties was sitting on the floor, seemingly having a tea party with three kids and a bunch of stuffed animals. They were all wearing matching tiaras. “Hey, Mrs. Kim.”

The woman didn’t look at him as she poured imaginary tea into a cup a little boy was holding out. The boy’s tiara slipped forward on his head. “I wasn’t expecting you before tomorrow. You better not be skipping classes Jisung. Can’t have you setting a bad example for the kids.”

“Don’t worry, my teacher was sick and the school couldn’t get a substitute in time. I figured I’d come down here, make myself useful.”

“I would invite you to join our tea party,” she smiled cheerily at the little boy and adjusted his tiara, “but Jiwoo has been asking for you since yesterday, and I think she would hate me forever if I didn’t send you to find her right away.” 

“I’ll go find her.”

 

He found Jiwoo a minute later, busy drawing what he assumed was supposed to be a lion. It was purple. She looked very focused, so he just sat down next to her without a word.  It took her five full minutes to realize he was there.

“JISUNG! I HAVE GREAT NEWS!” she shouted, purple lion forgotten. “I didn’t make Bella sad all since…” she started counting on her fingers. “FOUR DAYS!” she exclaimed, proudly holding out four fingers.

“That’s awesome Jiwoo! You know what, since Bella is so happy now,” he pulled a marker out of his pocket, “I think she needs to celebrate.”

Jiwoo gasped, quickly pulling back the sleeve of her shirt, revealing a slightly smudged turtle. “Yes, Bella needs to celebrate!” She showed her arm in his direction, and Jisung started drawing. First, he just redrew the fading lines of the turtle, before adding a crown. Jiwoo squealed in delight as she pulled her arm back to examine the turtle’s new accessory.

“Bella will get a magic fairy wand too if you manage to keep her happy until Friday.” Jisung couldn’t help but smile as determination settled in the five-year-olds eyes.

“Bella _will_ get a magic fairy wand!”

 

Jisung left the kindergarten half an hour before his class would have normally been over, and lunch would start. He wanted to get part of his assignment done, and if he didn’t get to the library before the lunch break started, his favorite spot would probably be taken.

He was in a much better mood as he walked back to school, quietly singing along to the music he was listening to. He stopped singing the second he stepped into the bathroom at school. He had not been expecting the bloody scene that met him.

 

Minho felt all the muscles in his body tense up as he heard the door open. _Shit, shit, shit, shit._ No one ever came into this bathroom during classes. It was _always_ empty. The bathroom wasn’t the closest to any classrooms at all, so students always went to other bathrooms during classes. He stumbled to clean up everything, but he was still bleeding. _Too late._ He looked up and met the eyes of a boy, standing frozen in the doorway. _Fuck._ He felt his heart start beating faster, and just like that, he had forgotten how to breathe.

Jisung snapped out of his shock, and quickly pulled the door closed behind him. He was surprised at how calmly he was reacting. While his mind was screaming, his body was moving confidently, limbs responding to commands he couldn’t remember giving them. He didn’t say anything as he dropped his backpack to the floor and moved towards the older boy. The other boy had sunk to the floor and was pulling his legs close to his chest, visibly shaking. His breaths were irregular and sharp as if he was forgetting he needed the oxygen until he was running out.

“Hey,” Jisung said softly, crouching down next to him. His entire arm was covered in blood, and it took Jisung a couple of seconds to locate the source of it all. He had several open cuts all over his left shoulder, accompanied by similar looking scars. This clearly wasn’t the first time he had done this.

Jisung reached his hand out, stopping himself before he made contact. “Is it okay if I touch you? I want to help stop the bleeding.” Jisung was pretty sure he nodded, but it might have just been his shaking. Regardless, Jisung took it as confirmation and started trying to stop the bleeding with paper towels. “Hey, listen to me. I want you to listen to mimic my breathing okay? Listen, inhale.” He continued what he was doing for a couple of seconds, the bleeding had pretty much stopped by now. “Exhale.”

Jisung kept doing this, instructing the boy to inhale and exhale for a while, until he felt he was managing to do it on his own. At that point, Jisung started humming the melody of the song he had been listening to when he entered the room and left the boy’s side momentarily to retrieve a bunch of band-aids. The cuts were longer than the band-aids, and the band-aids were meant for the kindergartners, so they had cartoon characters all over them, but it was the best he could do. He doubted the other wanted to go to the nurse with this.

 

Minho wasn’t entirely sure why it was working, but as he tried to place the melody the younger boy was humming, he felt his breathing slowing down, and his heart was no longer trying to claw its way out of his chest. “What are you doing?” he whispered, looking at the boy as he pulled out a marker and started drawing something on his wrist.

“It’s a turtle.” As he said it, he felt stupid. _Too late to go back now._ “His name is Jisung. That’s my name too by the way.”

Minho wasn’t sure he had heard him correctly. “What?”

“Next time you feel the urge to do this, draw Jisung a friend.” Jisung felt more stupid by the second. He had managed to calm the senior down, his breathing slowly returning to normal. He wasn’t sure what had possessed him to start drawing the turtle on his wrist, and he wasn’t fully aware he was doing it before he had been asked. The turtles were a kid thing, of course it was, and this guy wasn’t one. No wonder the senior looked at him like he had grown a second head.

“Okay,” Minho said, surprising them both. Jisung had been able to draw him out of the panic attack much faster than he had ever been able to do it himself, and maybe, just maybe the turtle would help. Either way, it didn’t hurt to try. “I’ll draw Jisung a friend next time.”

Jisung’s heart couldn’t help but break at how weak his voice sounded. He knew the senior ran with the popular crowd, and while he had never bothered to learn any of their names, he did notice them. You could never catch any of them alone, as they seemed to come in packs of two or three at the bare minimum. They always seemed happy, confident. Always joking around about one thing or another. As he looked at the broken boy in front of him, Jisung couldn’t help but wonder, _did any of them know?_ “Wait, really?”

“Yeah, how does it work?”

“Oh, yeah, uhm.” Jisung tried to figure out how word himself. The turtles worked slightly different for everyone, and it was usually very simple to explain, but usually, he was talking to young kids. Usually, he was only trying to get a little kid to stop doing something bad, or to start doing something good. ‘ _Don’t hit your sister, it makes the turtle sad.’_ or _‘The turtle needs the vegetables to be a healthy turtle, won’t you eat them for him?’_ He had never imagined he’d use it in a situation like this. He had never intended to. Not hurting an imaginary turtle probably wouldn’t work well as motivation for a teen with depression. “Okay, so. uhm, you see, uh. Whenever, uh, you feel the urge to, uhm, do that, just, uhm, draw a new turtle.”

“Why?”

Jisung elected to ignore the question and decided to stick with what he knew. Even if what he knew was usually directed towards kindergarteners. “And give the turtle a name.” _It motivates to keep him happy._ “You see, the turtles are always happy to have new friends, but, uhm, if you hurt yourself, a turtle will die from sadness.”

Minho couldn’t help but smile. Jisung sounded ridiculous, and judging from the look on his face, he was completely aware of it. “The sharpie turtle will die from sadness, huh?”

“Yes. Those are the words that came out of my mouth.”

“I’m Minho.”

“Jisung.”

“Yeah, like the turtle.”

Minho still looked quite shaken, but he seemed more present than he had a moment earlier, which only made Jisung’s embarrassment grow. “Yeah.. uh, the bell will probably ring soon, we should probably…” Jisung gestured to the bloody mess around them. Minho probably wouldn’t want a second person walk in on all that.

“Oh, shit. Yes. You don’t have to help me with this, I can deal with it myself. Fuck, I am so sorry.” All at once it hit Minho exactly what the younger boy had just witnessed. What he now knew.

“Don’t worry about it.” Jisung pushed himself to his feet, before offering his hand and pulling Minho to his feet as well. Without another word, the two started cleaning up the blood.

They left the bathroom just before the bell rang. As students started to mill out of classrooms and into the halls, they looked at each other one last time before going their separate ways, neither planning to talk to the other ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have no clue what the hell that was, but i hope you like it. i have no clue when the next chapter will be up, but i promise it will be, and hopefully soon (i have approximately half the next chapter written as of now)
> 
> comments are always appreciated!


	2. A Friend for Jisung

 

The mask went back on the second Minho left the bathroom. The confident walk, unfaltering smile – even the playful glint in his eyes – he had it all down perfectly. Even with the added paleness from his reason breakdown, no one would be able to suspect he was anything but perfectly happy; 100% okay. No one except Jisung of course – but he had an unfair advantage. The thought of the boy knowing, the thought of _anyone_ knowing, made a familiar tightness appear in his chest, and Minho did his best to force the thought to the back of his mind as he entered the cafeteria.

He made his way over to his usual table, briefly talking to a couple of people as he passed them. _Smiling, happy, fine._

Minho’s friends arrived to the table shortly after. They were talking about some party that he didn’t particularly care about, but that he knew he’d probably end up going to. Two of his friends had been in class with him when he had left and not come back, but, much to Minho’s relief, neither of them mentioned it, just carrying on with the conversation nothing had happened.

The conversation eventually strayed away from the party, and over to something Minho found equally uninteresting at that moment. Still, he talked, falling in and out of the conversation, in what he hoped was a natural manner. Not too quiet, not too much. _Smiling, happy, fine, normal._ He did his best to ignore the nagging voice in the back of his mind telling him he was messing it up.

_Smiling, happy, fine._

 

At some point, the group conversation split into several smaller ones, and Minho felt a flash of relief wash over him when he realized he didn’t really belong in any of them. He kept a smile on his face, occasionally nodding along to whatever words caught his attention, thankful no one really seemed to realize he had been left out of the conversations taking place. Listening was good. _Smiling, happy, fine, listening._

Minho had just started to think he could get away with not speaking for the rest of lunch when he heard his name mentioned.

“So, Minho, what’s up with the turtle?”

“Huh?” His head snapped around to see Chan and Woojin looking at him. He hadn’t even realized their conversation had died down, too consumed in focusing on another. _Smiling, happy fine, speak._

“On your wrist?”

“Oh,” Minho looked down on the sketch on his arm. _It’s a turtle. His name is Jisung._ “It’s nothing.”

“Cool,” And just like that, the conversation moved on, leaving Minho to stare down at the turtle. _Smiling, happy, fin –_ no. Calm. Just, _calm._

Minho tugged on the edge of his sleeve, covering up the turtle.

 

Minho had already scanned over half the faces in the cafeteria by the time he realized what he was doing. Once he caught himself, he forced his attention back towards his friends, startled to realize that Chan was attentively watching him, an eyebrow raised in question. It was clear he was about to voice his question, but when Minho shook his head slightly, he, though somewhat reluctantly, simply turned his attention away from Minho and back towards the conversation.

Minho forced himself to do the same, forbidding himself from searching the rest of the room. Jisung had walked in the opposite direction from him, he probably wasn’t even there. And even if he was, why should Minho care? He wanted nothing more than to forget what had happened, and by extension Jisung, altogether.

 

Breathing was easier the next day, and most of the day went without any bumps at all. He found himself talking and joking around without having to force it. The events of the previous day felt ancient, long gone, only reminders – the healing cuts and the turtle that would not be washed away – well hidden by his hoodie.

While Minho couldn’t get rid of the Jisung on his wrist, he was successful in ridding the image of the younger from his mind. His eyes did not wander across the crowd in the cafeteria or the students milling about the hallways in search of him like they had the previous day, and his thoughts seemed to wander everywhere but in the boy’s direction.

He only ever thought about Jisung once, when he saw the boy passing him in a hurry, eyes avoiding him like he was death himself. Minho found this puzzling and was ever so thankful when his mind didn’t grab on to it to make it into something worse than it probably was. Instead, it allowed him to turn back to his conversation, moving on as if nothing had happened at all.

It was nice to be able to breathe.

 

When his alarm rung Thursday morning, Minho knew it was going to be a bad day. He had gotten more than enough sleep, yet he was absolutely _exhausted._ His mind was heavy and opening up his eyes felt like a chore. “Not today,” He muttered as he pushed himself out of bed. “Thursdays are _good_ you fucking idiot.”

He didn’t bother to put on a smile as he tracked to the kitchen. His dad was still asleep, and his mother had left for work already, there was no reason to put on a show. He poured himself a bowl of cereal and sat down by the kitchen table.

Five minutes later he left the kitchen again, his breakfast in the trash.

 

School seemed to drag on forever, and by lunch, he had wanted nothing more than to go home and curl up in bed and let the day waste away. Instead, he kept smiling as he walked into the cafeteria and sat down at his table. “Hey.” _Smiling, happy, fine._

He was met with a chorus of hellos before the conversation carried on, and he felt compelled to contribute to it. It was calm, they talked about interesting things, and contained every trait of a pleasant conversation, yet Minho hated every second of it. He wanted to escape.

When Hyunjin unexpectedly dropped his head onto his shoulder, Minho felt every muscle in his body involuntary tensing up. _Smiling, happy, fine, relax._ He allowed his face to twist into disgust, playfully pushing him away, before pulling him back with a smile, doing his very best to act like he would have when he didn’t feel like the world was collapsing around him. _Smiling, happy, fine, normal._  

It was difficult to say which days touch would help, and which days it made it worse. Sometimes he welcomed the closeness when he was feeling off, other times it was like every particle in his body rejected it. The difference was undetectable to spectators.

_Smiling, happy, fine. Smiling happy fine._

Minho pulled away from the touch the second he thought it wouldn’t seem strange, continuing like nothing had happened, like nothing was happening.

_Smiling happy fine._

When lunch was over, he couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

 

He started feeling better during his walk home. The bus stopped right by his house, but he had decided a crowded bus was the last thing he needed and opted for the thirty-minute walk instead, and by the time he got home, it was easier to breathe again.

It was Thursday after all, and Thursdays were good.

 

Minho’s family always sat down together and ate dinner on Thursdays. Conflicting and late schedules often resulted in warmed up meals eaten whenever one had the time for it, but never on Thursdays. Thursdays they ate together.

His parents left work early on alternate weeks and made dinner for the three of them. His dad would experiment with new dishes, making tasty food from around the world.  His mom stuck to the same dish every time – and every time it tasted horrible.

The same calm album would be put on in the background, and they would chat about nothing and everything; about work, about school, about that random lady his mom had seen on the street that might have been following her but that might also have just been going the same way, or about whatever weird or completely mundane thing that might have been on their minds there at that particular Thursday.

Minho treasured these Thursday dinners more than anything else.

 

His dad was telling an elaborate story he had heard from a coworker, about a friend of a cousin of an in-law. The music halted for a second, switching between tracks, before a new calm melody started playing.

His mom was talking about an annoying woman she had encountered at work, her high-pitched voice, her ‘better-than-you’ attitude. Minho watched as his cats ran across the room, completely in their own little world.

He told them about something that had happened in class; when his chemistry teacher almost set fire to his own clothes. The neighbor’s dog barked, presumably at the squirrel that lived in their tree.

Minho wasn’t sure what triggered it, but it was there again – the tightness in his chest – making it difficult to breathe.

“You had a math test the other day, right? Do you know when you’ll get it back?”

The music played, the cats chased across the room, the dog barked. “Tuesday I think.” He could feel it clouding his thoughts, consuming all the sound around it and spitting it out again in a jumbled mess of noises. His mom kept talking, he didn’t allow his smile to falter for a second, _smiling, happy, fine,_ silently praying she wasn’t saying anything that required answers.

_Smiling, happy,  fine, breathe._ “I have homework I need to get done.” Music, cats, dog.

His mom waved her hand dismissively, turned to his dad, and kept talking. Minho walked calmly out of the room. _Smiling, happy, fine, walk._ The second he was out of sight, his smile vanished and he rushed down the hall and threw himself into his room, slamming the door shut behind him. _Too hard, too hard, too hard, too hard._ “Sorry!” _Smiling, happy, fine._

He heard his mom call out an answer, but her words got lost.

_Smiling, happy, fine. Smiling happy fine. Smilinghappyfine._

He let himself slide down against the door, hugged his legs close to his chest.

_Breathe breathe breathe._

_smiling happy fine._

Minho’s eyes locked with the ones across the room.

“Go away,” his voice come out small, quiet, _pleading._

The eyes didn’t look away, and Minho was forced to acknowledge their owner. Curled together, shaking and gasping for air, relentlessly staring back at him. Forever unsmiling, always miserable, never okay.

Minho hated him.

_breathe_

“Leave.” But he didn’t. He never did.

_smiling happy fine_

Minho grabbed for whatever was closest to him, a discarded book on the floor, and hurled it towards him. His throw was weak, and the book never quite reached the mirror, but it made his arm come into vision for a second.

_turtle_

He forced his eyes down on to his wrist and traded the boy who lived inside his mirror with the one who lived inside his mind. _Kind smile, calm movements, humming an indistinguishable melody._

_inhale_

Minho took one last look at the broken boy in front of him. And he was still shaking, still struggling to breathe, but he pushed himself off the floor and over to his desk.

_exhale._

The lines came out jagged and messy.

_Smiling, happy, fine._

But Jisung had a new friend nonetheless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am not sure if this chapter did what i wanted it to, and i am not completely happy with it (but i never am with anything i write), but i really wanted to update today, so here goes. i hope you liked it, and i hope i didn't totally butcher this. next update should be up within next week, but no promises. 
> 
> comments are always appreciated!


	3. A Promise to Forget

When Jisung left the bathroom, heart still beating uncomfortably fast, it had been his full intention to leave it all behind him. The broken, desperate look in Minho’s eyes, the way he gasped for air like he was suffocating, the scars that lined his shoulder, the blood; all of it.

He was aware his mind would probably obsess over it for the rest of the day, but he was planning on that being the end of it. After that, he was going to forget. He was going to let his mind obsess, but he was not going to let himself get involved. He didn’t want any part of it and judging from the look in Minho’s eyes when they parted in the hallway, he didn’t want him to be either.

Yet, when Minho turned away from him, he couldn’t help but stare after him for a couple of seconds. He couldn’t help but wonder about him. Someone else knew he was struggling, right? Surely he was getting help, from a friend, a sibling, or a parent. The bright smiles the senior seemed to have an endless supply of, the ones he was already handing out again, surely they were the smiles of a person who had all the support they could ever need.

Surely, Jisung could forget the boy excited in good conscience.

 

There were already plenty of students in the library when he got there, and Jisung silently wished death upon them all. He didn’t have anything in particular against any of them or people in general, but he preferred working in less crowded spaces. The feeling of someone watching what he was working on over his shoulder rendered him useless.

Jisung made his way to the back corner of the library and groaned when he saw his spot was already taken. Seungmin looked at him from where he was sitting in the window sill, promptly sticking his tongue out at him, before returning his attention to his laptop. Jisung debated pushing him out the window, but after a second of consideration he shuffled his way down between two rows of bookshelves and settled on the floor a little way away from the window.

He had first found Seungmin sitting in the window a couple of weeks into freshman year. Jisung had already been spending most lunch periods in the library at that point and had been kind of miffed to find someone else in his spot. He hadn’t said anything about it, instead sitting down in a different spot. When he returned the next day, Seungmin had been sitting there again, a challenging glint in his eyes.

Jisung got there first the next three times, Seungmin winning the unofficial race the four following. This kept going for a couple of weeks before Jisung decided to break the ice and actually speak to the boy. Much to the librarian's dismay, hushed conversations between the two became a frequent occurrence in the library. Eventually, both boys stopped spending all their lunches in the library, but whenever one stumbled across the other already sitting in the window – which would still happen at least twice a week – they would still consider it a lost round.

Almost a year later, Jisung still wasn’t quite sure what they were could be considered friends.

 

Jisung pulled his notebook out of his backpack and flipped through it looking for the right notes. His teacher didn’t let them use laptops in class unless he specifically allowed it, which meant most classes he’d have to settle for taking notes by hand.

After a couple of minutes of circling around information he deemed important enough to want to include in his assignment, he went to pull out his laptop as well. When his eyes landed back on the page of the notebook, he felt his heart stop, and he quickly slammed it shut, earning a curious look from Seungmin over in the window. Jisung just smiled at him, and pulled out his phone, pretending to scroll through his Instagram feed as his mind began its descent down a rabbit hole.

The page in the notebook had blood on it.

Jisung had washed all the blood off his hands when they were done cleaning up, but it had never occurred to him that some of it might have gotten on his clothes before his sleeve had painted his page red. He found himself thanking whatever had made him choose to wear black clothes that day, the dark colors masking what would have been bloodstains on his clothes.

It was then he realized that Minho had been wearing dark colors as well, and it was this that truly started the downward spiral. Had Minho intentionally dressed in black? Had he gotten dressed that morning knowing he would end up in that bathroom? Did he do that often? Jisung spent a good ten minutes trying to remember what the boy had been wearing every time they had passed each other in the hallway before, only to come up with nothing. Sure, he had seen the boy plenty of times, but he’d never paid attention. He regretted that now, though he knew it was stupid – he’d had no reason to pay attention earlier.

 

Jisung remained trapped in his thoughts until a pen hit him in the face.

“Bell’s ringing, you got to get to class.”

“Was the pen really necessary?” Jisung glared at Seungmin, who seemed very happy with his decision to throw the pen. He hurriedly shoved his stuff back into his backpack and pushed past Seungmin.

“Absolutely,” Seungmin answered, and followed him out of the library.

Jisung rolled his eyes and was about to leave Seungmin to get to his class when he heard him calling his name in a softer voice than he had ever heard the boy speak in before. He twisted around to face him. “Yeah?”

“You okay? You seemed kind of.. out of it in the library.”

Jisung was surprised he had been paying any attention to him at all. “Just tired.” Jisung could see Seungmin didn’t believe him, but he didn’t push for an answer. Instead, the boy smiled slightly at him and disappeared down the hallway and towards his class.

As Jisung watched him hurry his way through the horde of students, he thought that maybe, just maybe, it could be considered friendship.

 

The next day Jisung made a point of wearing a light hoodie, telling himself that it meant he was completely done with Minho. And it worked. His mind didn’t wander to the senior or the bathroom once. He beat Seungmin to the window and spent the majority of lunch ignoring Seungmin’s pointed looks and occasional remarks as they both did their own work, no real conversation necessary.

The first time Minho even entered his mind was when he was down in the kindergarten during his free period. He had been painting with a couple of kids when a little boy came up to him, three turtles clustered on his arm.

“Look,” he said. “I made Elliot and Andrew a new friend!” He said, proudly showing off the new turtle, which unlike the other two, was clearly not drawn by Jisung. “His name is Jisung. Like you!”

‘His name is Jisung. That’s my name too by the way.’

‘What?’

Jisung pushed the memory out of his head and forced a smile. The turtles weren’t a Minho thing, they had never been a Minho thing, and he hated his mind for going there. “That’s awesome! I’m so honored!”

 

Minho lingered after that, the image of the boy always present in Jisung’s mind, even when it wasn’t screaming for attention. He could focus just fine in class, function as normal, but the image of a broken person remained, never allowing itself to fully fade, regardless of what Jisung did to diminish it.

Jisung didn’t actually see Minho before the end of the day. He was on his way out, happy the day was finally over when he saw him. Standing by the lockers with a couple of friends. They were joking about something, laughing, but Jisung didn’t catch what they said as he hurried past, diverting his eyes away from the senior.

He was wearing black.

Despite his efforts to stop it, the thoughts resurfaced. Had he gotten dressed knowing he would end up in the bathroom? Had he ended up there again today?

As he pushed the school door open and left the building, his mind abandoned all logical reasons as to why Minho could have chosen to wear black again, and he knew he would not be able to leave him behind. Not yet.

 

His eyes followed Minho more than he’d care to admit the next day. When he walked into school the first thing he did, without even fully realizing it, was searching for him in the crowd of students already there. He found him quickly enough, disappearing into a classroom towards the end of the hall. Jisung slowed down when he passed the classroom, doing his best to inconspicuously look into the room and at Minho. He was talking to a friend, leaned over a book, seemingly trying to explain something. He let out a snort when his friend failed to understand, a small smile appearing on his lips as started over again.

Jisung tried convincing himself he wasn’t being creepy when he followed him to the cafeteria during lunch. He usually never went there and had only been there twice in his time at the school, but when he had seen Minho pass him, heading towards the cafeteria, Jisung had abandoned his plans of spending lunch in the library again and tracked after the boy (at a distance). He had settled at an empty table and spent lunch trying to make it seem like he was on his phone, and not like he was blatantly observing Minho’s every movement.

Jisung was out of earshot, so he couldn’t hear what they were talking about, but it seemed to be a pleasant conversation. There were several smiles, all of which seemed genuine. At one point, one of Minho’s friends dropped his head down on to his shoulder, to which Minho responded with mock disgust, pushing him away, before pulling him back with a smile. He seemed like he was having the time of his life, and by they left for class, Jisung couldn’t detect a single moment of any negative emotion from him.

He spotted Minho three more times that day, every time staring in his direction a little longer than he should have. Every time Minho seemed happy, always accompanied by one or more friends, always smiling. By the time he left school, Jisung felt good about the situation, finally letting the logical answer – that he simply liked black – become a possibility again.

 

Still, the next day, he watched him, though not as intently as the previous day. He just wanted some peace of mind, allowing him to fully forget about the boy, before the weekend. Minho, though unaware of him watching, seemed more than happy to fulfill this, constantly smiling and laughing. Occasionally his face would twist into a scowl at something his friends said but it always seemed goodhearted, never like he was actually felt bad.

As the end of the day approached, he was still watching, but he was no longer worried. Maybe the scars were old, maybe it the incident that Tuesday had just been a setback – a onetime thing.

Jisung was just about to look away for the last time, content with what he had observed over the last couple of days – ready to fully let go – when Minho reached to pull something out of his locker, making his sleeve slip down his arm, revealing two turtles on his wrist.

Jisung’s heart dropped to his stomach.

The turtle meant he hadn’t done anything, Jisung knew that, but it also meant that at one point since their meeting in the bathroom, Minho had been broken enough, desperate enough, to want to. Once again Jisung became hyperaware of the dark colors of Minho’s clothes, logical reasons as to why gone again. Cause the turtle, the turtle meant he wasn’t – hadn’t been – okay.

Minho laughed at something his friend said, lightly shoving him away. Smile as bright as ever, previously shattered eyes without as much as a single crack. He was completely unrecognizable from the broken person Jisung had encountered earlier that week. He was smiling and happy, undoubtedly fine.

Just as convincingly whole as he had been broken.

And it was terrifying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope this was at least sort of enjoyable. i'm in russia without my laptop (and probably without internet) next week, so i won't be updating then (unless i decide to neglect everything i have to do when get home in the weekend and write instead). the week after i have a bunch of tests and assignments, but hopefully i'll find time to write and update then, no promises though
> 
> comments are always greatly appreciated!


	4. A Cluster of Turtles

Minho couldn’t remember when the mirror was first put up in his room. It hadn’t always been there – that much he knew – but when it had been put up he hadn’t really cared about it. It could not have been more trivial at the time, and for years after, it stayed just as unimportant to him.

And then he met the boy in the mirror.

Looking back, he couldn’t remember what the trigger had been, couldn’t remember if he had been in his room when it started, or how he had gotten there if he hadn’t. But he remembered the movement that caught his eye. Twisting his head to look at it directly. 

And there he’d been. Staring back at him from the other side of the room. He had looked so miserable, tears running down his cheeks, eyes panicked, shaking all over, and struggling to breathe. He had looked completely and utterly _broken_. It was horrible, pathetic, _disgusting._

And he had known then that he never wanted anyone else to meet the boy in the mirror.  

He would just have to get through everything smiling. Convince everyone he was happy. Always be fine. 

 _Smiling, happy, fine._

 

Minho wasn’t quite sure why he ended up in front of the mirror when he got home that Friday. He had plenty of things he should be doing, and more that he would rather be doing, but the second he came home, he had headed for his room and sat down in front of the mirror.

The book he had tried to throw at the mirror the day before rested on the floor next to him, a reminder of what had happened. But the boy in the mirror didn’t hold grudges and sat down in front of him anyways.

The boy looked nothing like had the night before. He still didn’t look happy, but there was a strange calm that resonated through his entire being. Blank expression, dead eyes, staring back at him. Still broken even when not breaking down.

 

Minho noticed it Saturday.

He was sitting on his bed, doing homework when his cat decided to try to get his attention. Over the years he had managed to convince himself that he was good at ignoring the animal when he was busy with something – regardless of how often the cat successfully distracted him from whatever it was he was doing – so he tried doing just that. It didn’t take him long to give up and moved his attention away from his laptop and to the animal, who had opted for licking his wrist.

His attention was pulled away from his cat again instantly, thoughts completely consumed by the turtle that had been occupying his wrist for the past couple of days.

The lines were almost gone at this point, having faded rapidly overnight. It should have surprised him – and it certainly shouldn’t have upset him – that the turtle was fading. The marker creation had survived a lot longer than it should have, especially considering how much time he had spent trying to remove it at first. Nevertheless, the washed out lines made his stomach drop, and a familiar feeling started building up in his chest.

_his name is Jisung_

He couldn’t remember why he had wanted it gone.

_Kind smile, calm movements, humming an indistinguishable melody._

He didn’t want it gone.

_draw Jisung a friend_

He pushed himself out of his bed and towards his desk. He had pretty much emptied the contents of the desk drawer on to the floor when his mother called his name, telling him his friends were there to pick him up. The marker he’d been looking for was left one of the few things still in the drawer as he raced out of his room and to the front door. He hated leaving people waiting for him.

He did his best to push Jisung out of his mind as he sat down in Chan’s car. He couldn’t.

_and give the turtle a name_

He had forgotten to name Jisung’s friend.

 

Parties were _fun_. Minho was supposed to be having _fun_. It was supposed to be _fun_ to go to a party with your friends. His friends were having _fun_. Everyone seemed to be having _fun_.

But the party was _loud_.

Too _loud_. And people were _loud_. Speaking _loudly_ to hear each other over the _loud_ music. The world was screaming, a sickening array of _loud_ sounds, yet everyone seemed to be having _fun_.

No one else seemed to realize it was all too much.  

Maybe it was just him. It was probably just him. _Why was it always just him?_

He smiled like nothing was wrong, cause as far as anyone else could tell, nothing was. He laughed at jokes, held up conversation, and did his best to mimic what he would do at any other party. And as far as anyone else could tell, his smiles were genuine, he was truly happy, and everything was fine. He was doing a good job.

“What’s with the turtles? It’s got to be something since you drew a new one when the first disappeared.” Chan gestured at his wrist, and Minho felt his smile drop. _smile._ Minho cursed himself for not wearing something with long sleeves.

“I just like turtles that’s all.” Minho shrugged, and suddenly it was a little harder to hide how uncomfortable he was. _smiling, happy, fine, normal._ His hand instinctively moved to cover the turtles on his wrist, only to flinch when he realized that would make it more dubious rather than less. He met Chan’s questioning look with a strained smile.

Chan wasted no time changing the subject, and soon Minho was once again acting like nothing was wrong. And although Chan seemed to believe it, Minho couldn’t help but notice how the older kept a closer eye on him the rest of the night.

 

The world crashed the second Chan’s car disappeared around the corner. It was barely there now, almost gone. He couldn’t determine whether he was moving extremely slowly or extremely quickly towards the front door.

_it’s a turtle_

His hands fumbled with the keys, and he wasn’t sure if he got the door unlocked fast or if it took him a long time.

_his name is Jisung_

Minho stumbled through the door, kicking off his shoes. And he might have been very loud, but he might also have been very quiet.

_draw Jisung a friend_

Minho stumbled across his room, almost tripping over the several items he’d pulled out of his drawer earlier that day. He pulled the marker out of the drawer.

_and give the turtle a name_

He named the second turtle as he retraced Jisung’s faded lines. And the world was still too loud, too fast, and too much when he was done, but there were two fewer problems in it now.

He named it Jisung.

 

Come Monday, there were three Jisungs clustered together on his wrist.

The day was good. Chan seemed to have forgotten about his strange reaction to the question about the turtles, and Minho had made sure to wear long sleeves to avoid more. Even boring classes passed with ease, and he found himself contributing in conversation with his friends because he wanted to, and not because he felt he had to force himself to.

There was only one problem that arose that day. Minho first noticed it on the way to class, when he felt a pair of eyes on him on the way to class. He had turned around, and for a second his eyes had met someone else’s, but they drowned in the crowd before he could see the person they belonged to.

Minho was used to people looking – it was one of the downsides of being popular; it was harder to go unnoticed – but he wasn’t used to the feeling of being watched. There was a big difference between being watched and simply being looked at.

The eyes were there again when he walked to his second class. Only for a brief moment as he passed someone in the hallway, but it was undoubtedly the same eyes. He turned around just in time to see someone disappearing around the corner.

It was only at lunch the eyes stayed in one place long enough for him to catch their owner – and Minho wasn’t very pleased to see who it was. Though he had fully accepted, even embraced the concept of the turtles (even if he didn’t fully understand it), he had not accepted the younger boy who had first introduced him to them.

And he was not okay with the boy watching him.

But he didn’t confront him about it. The last thing he needed were questions, and while Minho was quite good at keeping his secrets, he wasn’t sure if Jisung would be able to keep them if asked. The boy had left the cafeteria in a hurry after he made eye contact with Minho, clearly embarrassed.

Yet, Minho caught Jisung watching two more times that day, and three times the next. The boy wore his emotions on his sleeves, and Minho saw the same one every single time. _Worry_. He didn’t like it.

 

When he felt Jisung watching him again on Wednesday, he knew he needed to confront the boy about it, before it actually drove him insane. But there were two problems. Minho had never been a confrontational person, and he couldn’t confront him at school without having to answer questions about it when it undoubtedly got back to his friends that he’d talked to the underclassman.

One of the problems solved itself when he saw Jisung leave the school in the middle of the day. Without really thinking much through it, he followed the boy.

He never got the chance to solve the second problem, cause before he could successfully talk himself into approaching Jisung, the boy stopped in front of a kindergarten, and was met by an energy ball of a little girl, who dragged him further into the kindergarten the second the gate closed behind him.

Realizing just how creepy was being, Minho continued past the kindergarten as if he hadn’t been following Jisung. Curious to why the boy was going to the kindergarten, he turned to look if he could see the boy as he walked past. Instead, he was met with a scene of kids running around playing and turtles.

A lot of turtles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what do you mean i've been gone from this story for over two months only to post this unedited shitstorm of an update? i have no clue what you're talking about pfft. anyways, i have like two weeks left of school and then i am free for the summer and hopefully will have more time to write. 
> 
> guess i'll go ahead and do this here too; feel free to come and talk to me on [tumblr](https://noonetofangirlwith.tumblr.com/), i am bored and want friends.
> 
> feedback always appreciated!


	5. A Return to Normal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here you go, another unedited, quite shitty update. hope you enjoy!

Jisung was surprised when Seungmin sat down across from him at lunch on Thursday, and though the surprise must have shown on his face, Seungmin did nothing to acknowledge how weird his action was. Seungmin _never_ ate lunch in the cafeteria.

Not that Jisung typically spent lunch period in the cafeteria either, apart from the last week or so of casual stalking.

“You haven’t been coming to the library lately,” Seungmin stated after a while. Tone unreadable, eyes not meeting Jisung’s but not quite avoiding them either.

“I guess I haven’t.”

It took Seungmin a while to speak again – time Jisung spent looking past the boy and to where Minho was sitting with his friends – and when he did, Jisung was caught off guard by his words. “Look, I’m sorry.”

He blinked. Once. Twice. “What?”

“Last week. When I asked you if you were okay. We don’t do that. I thought it was fine since you were there on Wednesday. But then you haven’t been there since. I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.” And his tone was flat, unbothered, carrying none of the emotion his words were, yet they were undoubtedly genuine. “Don’t worry, I’ll fuck off.”

Jisung just stared at him as he began to get up and didn’t manage to get any words out before Seungmin had already started walking away. “Wait, no! That’s not it.”

Seungmin was back at the table in no time, curious look in his eyes. “No?”

“I was a little surprised you noticed something was off, but it didn’t make me uncomfortable. I didn’t stop coming to the library because I was avoiding you.” Jisung muttered. Painfully aware of the possibility that the boy would pry further, he tried to deter the conversation away from the topic of why he had stopped going. “You ought to be happy I wasn’t there though. Means you got the spot every single time.”

“Eh, not as fun unless you're there moping about it.”

Jisung couldn’t help but feel relieved it had worked. “Rude.”

“So. We’re friends now, right?” Seungmin asked with a smile that somehow looked both wicked and impossibly sweet at the same time.

“Yeah?” Jisung realized a second too late that not only was he an open book, but that Seungmin had proved he did actually pay attention.

“Then you won’t mind me asking.” Smile wickedly sweet, eyes a dangerous shine to them.

Which meant, the boy had seen the relief on his face when he had successfully steered Seungmin from asking about the library – seen that he had been embarrassed by the answer.

“Exactly why did you stop coming to the library?”

_Shit._

Seungmin joined him in the cafeteria again the next day. He still didn’t have all the information as to why Jisung was there, but he seemed to think what he had was enough. When he had asked the day before, Jisung had simply told him he was watching someone. Seungmin had replied with the notion that Jisung was a creep and then moved over to his side of the table so he could watch as well.

“I don’t get it. I _guess_ he can be considered good-looking, but he seems so – “ Seungmin ended his sentence with a series of hand gestures. Jisung wasn’t quite sure what they were supposed to mean.

Seungmin had come to the conclusion that they were watching Minho because Jisung had a crush on him, and unable to tell him why he actually was watching, Jisung had let him believe it.

“His friend is sort of hot though. I would get it if you were into his friend.”

Jisung responded with a groan and buried his head in his hands. Seungmin’s company was nice, but he liked it better when he wasn’t furthering the narrative that he liked Minho. He didn’t even _know_ Minho. “Can we talk about literally anything else?”

Seungmin shrugged and pushed some of his food towards Jisung, who absentmindedly shook his head before looking back up at Minho across the room. And the happy smile on Minho’s face should have put him at ease, but instead, it worried him. Cause he had no way of telling if it was real.

 

Though he still thought it was because of a silly crush, Seungmin joined Jisung in watching the following week. Some days, Jisung found immersed in conversation with the boy, and would only later realizing he had forgotten to pay much attention to Minho at all. It was a nice change of pace; he hadn’t been aware how tasking it had actually been to constantly worry about someone – even if that someone practically was a stranger – before he had been pulled out of it.

Jisung learned quickly that his friend operated in two very different ways; either catering to whatever he thought Jisung wanted, being considerate and nice to a fault, or teasing him, trying to be annoying,  purposely riling him up. There was definitely some real Seungmin at both ends of the spectrum, but Jisung was pretty sure his actual person existed somewhere in between the two extremes.

Minho became less and less of a priority for Jisung, and eventually, Jisung settled on the thought that Minho, and whichever ones of his friends knew – cause surely some of them had to – probably could deal with it themselves. Him watching from the sidelines hadn’t done anything anyways, except made for uncomfortable eye contact the few times Minho had noticed him.

It was really for the best to just stop.

So he did.

 

Over the next couple of weeks, his life returned pretty much to normal. He went back to spending most of his lunch periods in the library, still racing Seungmin for the spot in the window, even though most days they would both end up sitting there, across from each other. There had always been enough space for two people – but it had never dawned to either that it was possible for both of them to sit there before their dynamic had changed from that weird mix of acquaintance and friend to actual friends. The librarian did not like this development; they talked even more now.

That was the only thing that stuck out as different from his life before; his friendship with Seungmin. And while Jisung would much rather go back to being blissfully unaware of the turmoil in Minho’s life, maybe something good had come out of it.

Sometimes he would see the older boy in the hallways, and each time he would divert his eyes to avoid looking at him. He didn’t think much about Minho anymore, but seeing him still brought back the memory of someone broken, of something Jisung would rather forget. It didn’t help that the boy’s wardrobe consisted solely of dark clothes, which had been the cause of his obsession in the first place.

But even though he would divert his eyes, even though he was still painfully aware of the dark clothes, Jisung stopped worrying. Stopped thinking about it. Both the incident in the bathroom and his short-lived obsession with the boy afterward became things of the past.

 

-

 

Had Jisung been on time that day, he would have missed it. The hallways would have been filled with its usual buzz of students, and he would have passed by the room, completely unaware. He wouldn’t have been all alone, rushing through the hallways to get to his class, and it would have been too noisy to hear it; a quiet sob, coming from an empty classroom.

But he wasn’t on time; he was running late, becoming later and later every second he just stood there. Frozen mid-movement, hand reaching towards the handle of the door.

Jisung tried willing himself to keep moving, to get to class and forget about it. He told himself that whoever the person crying was didn’t want anyone to see them and that that was why they had hidden themselves away in an empty classroom. He told himself he would get too invested again; obsessed with the idea of helping, without actually doing anything remotely helpful at all. He told himself to leave. That it didn’t concern him.

And it probably didn’t concern him, but he pushed the door open anyways, forever grateful that you couldn’t lock the classroom doors unless you had a key.

Jisung was met with a picture he had seen before; Minho, sitting in the corner of the room, legs pulled close to his chest. His entire body was shaking, and his breaths were irregular and sharp _. Painful._ He wanted to turn, run away, forget he had stumbled across the older boy again. He knew how the scene ended, and he didn’t want to relive it or what came after.  

Quietly, he closed the door behind him and moved towards the broken boy. It was only when he got closer he noticed the differences to the day he had first stumbled across the boy.

“Hey,” Jisung said softly, crouching down next him.

There wasn’t any blood on his arm this time, and he wasn’t quite as pale. Instead of blood, turtles danced up his arm. Some of them had jagged lines, and some of them were scribbled over for whatever reason, but they were mostly intact.

“I need you to breathe, okay? Inhale.”

And there wasn’t a razor blade in his hand this time.

Instead, he held a marker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unedited, shitty, and shorter than the other chapters so far. yet here we are, finally, after a bunch of chapters, our boys meet again. more interaction will happen next chapter. i don't know when next chapter will be up, don't expect me to update this fast again. i just wrote and decided to post now because i hit 100 kudos, which is absolutely amazing! thank you so much! i'll have the next update up when i can, but i still have one exam left. i'll have vacation in two weeks though! 
> 
> also, tomorrow i am seeing monsta x, momoland, giant pink, and jang jane! i could only get one ticket, so i'm going alone, and that's stressful but i am still really looking forward to it! i am sort of freaking out, but in a good way.
> 
> feel free to come and talk to me on [tumblr](https://noonetofangirlwith.tumblr.com/), i am bored and want friends.
> 
> feedback always appreciated!


	6. A Place to Hide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry that it took that this update took so long!

What had been said or done to push him over the edge, the excuse he’d sputtered before separating himself from his friends in a hurry, the desperate attempt to find somewhere – _anywhere_ – to hide away, and finally breaking down all alone in an empty classroom.

It was all a blur.

Shallow breaths and ice in his lungs. A storm in his head and incoherent thoughts running rampant, screaming to be heard over one another. Trembling hands and hugging himself, desperately trying to hold together the already shattered pieces of himself.

He couldn’t remember any of it.

A familiar boy slipping in through the door – there to help, but unsure of how to – and sitting down next to him, starting to talk in a calm and collected voice, emitting an energy quite opposite of his own. The boy might have been telling him about something that had happened in his algebra class the other day, or about the dog he had seen on his way to school. Maybe he was talking about a pair of shoes he wanted, or maybe he was actually telling a really intricate story about a bumblebee named Stan. He might have just been instructing him to breathe – Minho had no clue.

Minho wasn’t listening to the words that came out of Jisung’s mouth, but he was listening; listening to his voice; listening to how his voice seemed to hang around in the room, even after he’d stopped speaking – almost palpable, but not quite. Soothing and melodic in a way that made _talking_ seem like the wrong word to describe it, even though Minho was acutely aware that that was all the boy was doing.

Minho wasn’t sure when the talking stopped and the humming started, but eventually the boy was humming. It was the same melody he had hummed the first time they’d met, the one Minho had never managed to place, but familiarized himself with anyways.

And that was all Minho would remember from his panic. A voice that wasn’t quite talking, and a familiar melody he could never quite place.

Minho had expected Jisung to leave once he’d calmed him down; to vanish into the hallway like he had done the first time they met. He expected to never speak about it – or to Jisung at all really – ever again. Maybe Jisung would make it uncomfortable and start watching him from a distance again, or maybe their interaction would be limited to accidental and awkward eye contact now and then. Minho had expected them to go on as they had; one feeling to known and the other feeling to knowledgeable for them to simply be strangers, but both unwilling to do anything about it.

He certainly hadn’t expected Jisung to stay.

But then he did.

And he did nothing to acknowledge just how _weird_ it was for him to do it. He just didn’t get up; stayed like it was the normal thing to do – like the two of them sitting in silence in an empty classroom was a completely mundane everyday occurrence.

Minho wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be doing, and he silently prayed that Jisung would get up and leave before he had to figure it out. What was the proper procedure after someone had just witnessed you mid-meltdown for the _second_ time?

Was he supposed to e thanking the younger for helping him again, or wasn’t he supposed to mention it? Was he supposed to say anything at all? Was he supposed to wait for Jisung to speak first? Was _he_ supposed to be the one to leave?

 _What the_ hell _is the proper thing to do after something like this?_

“You know, I can practically see your thoughts running around your head.” Jisung was still sitting across from him, but neither of them had looked in the direction of the other in a while. “I won’t tell anyone about this, so if that’s what you’re stressing about, don’t.”

“Oh, uh, thanks.” _Way to sound like an idiot._

“Cool.”

“Cool.” Minho wanted to kick himself, but he figured that it would probably make him look both stupid and insane if he tried. Jisung probably thought he was stupid already, but Minho would rather be viewed as an intelligent maniac than a stupid one. He settled for digging his nails into his palm.

Jisung silently nodded to himself, shifting slightly. For a second Minho thought he was about to leave, now that he had said what he wanted, and the slight leftover tension from the panic and the awkwardness rapidly grew – _what the fuck brain, you_ wanted _him to leave a minute ago –_ but then Jisung settled again, still refusing to look in Minho’s direction, but at least staying.

“Thank you,” Minho muttered, relief evident in his voice. With a start, he realized that he wasn’t thanking Jisung for helping him through the panic, but rather for staying with him afterward, which was something he hadn’t even known he wanted at first. “For helping me I mean.” Of course, Jisung didn’t need to know that.

“Oh, no problem.” Jisung turned to look at him for the first time since he’d calmed down. “I, uhm, see you liked my – uh, the turtle thing.”

Minho followed his gaze to where it was resting on his arm, suddenly very aware that not only were the turtles a testament of his drawing skills – or lack thereof – but they were also _all_ named after the boy in front of him. Jisung could _not_ know. _Ever._

“Didn’t expect you to. I felt _very_ stupid about it after we met.”

“I thought it was kinda weird at first. But then I kinda liked it,” Minho said, trying his best to emit the confident vibe he’d become so good at faking when he was stressed. He willed his muscles to relax and unclenched his fist, turning his hands so that the crescent shapes left on his palms by his nails weren’t visible, and smiled. He didn’t want Jisung to question why he was nervous, as he would then have to reveal the turtle's name or come up with a lie fast, and he knew he was less likely to let anything slip if he put on fake confidence.

Jisung’s face fell, and he instantly tore his eyes away from Minho’s arm to meet his eyes. “You don’t – I mean, why do you – don’t do tha–“ Jisung’s eyes went wide, frustration leaking out of his voice when he spoke again. “That’s cool.” He muttered, cheeks growing redder.

“Why do I do what?”

“Nothing.”

Normally Minho would have dropped it at that. He knew the embarrassed and borderline panicked feeling that could occur when someone pried into something that wasn’t meant for them to know. On some days, it could be the thing that pushed his day from bad to hellish, and he would never wish it on anyone else. But whatever this was, Jisung had wanted to say it – if only for a moment – and he had wanted to say it to _him_. It had been for him to know, and now he was curious. “Why do I do nothing? Well, it can be pretty relaxing, but it gets boring pretty quickly.”

Jisung just glared at him.

“Come on, why do I do what,”

For a couple of moments Jisung just stared at him. It was kind of amusing to Minho; how clearly you could see the discussion he was having with himself in his eyes. As he wondered whether the boy was bad at hiding his emotions, or if he simply didn’t care to, he could feel the nervousness and tension start to wash away, and the happy confidence he had been displaying felt more aligned with how he was actually feeling.

“Switch.” Jisung finally said. “You switch.”

Even though Minho wasn’t sure what Jisung meant, it didn’t sound positive, and he instantly felt his muscles start to tense again. He did his best to make them stop. “What do you mean?” He asked, smiling and tilting his head slightly to the side.

“You just did it again,” Jisung huffed, frustration clear on his face. “I wasn’t sure about it until just now, but I sort of guessed you were doing it when I saw you had more turtles a while back.”

Minho could feel his smile fading, and desperately tried to stop it. “I don’t understand.”

“Okay, so just now, when I was being silent and awkward instead of vocal and awkward, you looked stressed. You weren’t all panicky anymore, but you were still stressed, and you looked sort of unhappy.”

Minho’s smile faltered, and this time he did nothing to stop it. He knew Jisung had seen it all, but hearing the boy talk about it made it feel so much more real.

“But then you did this thing where you just _switched._ Suddenly you were being confident and happy, and that would be great, _except it isn’t real_. Stress doesn’t just vaporize like that. You don’t just turn it off. The happy confidence, you’re faking it. It's a lie.”

“I’m not–“

“And I guess most people do that occasionally, but it’s scary when you do it because you’re so fucking good at it. If I hadn’t been here to see you turn it on, I would have never guessed anything was wrong. Hell, I did see you switch and I still found myself almost believing it was real.”

Minho’s hand clenched, knuckles turning white as he refused to look at the boy.

“I don’t know if you do this with your friends, or who you do it around, but it seems like you do it a lot. Cause you always seem happy but clearly –“ he gestured towards the turtles on his arm “that’s not the truth, or at least not the whole truth.”

He was right, the number of turtles on his arm was evidence of that – and the ones blacked out were even more damning.

“And I know this doesn’t mean anything coming from me, hell it’s not my place to say any of this – we don’t really know each other – but it’s okay. It’s okay to be broken sometimes. You don’t have to be fine all the time. People aren’t gonna judge you if you aren’t happy all the time. If anyone does, the problem is them, not you. Constantly pretending you’re fine when you aren' t sounds _exhausting_.”

Minho wasn’t sure what he was feeling as he stared at Jisung, expression blank, heart beating slightly faster than normal, all thoughts silent as they tried to process what had just happened.

“So you don’t have to pretend. At least not around me.”

Somehow Jisung had looked at him and seen something instantly that his friends and family had failed to see for years. Somehow he had looked at Minho and seen the boy Minho usually hid away in his mirror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry again that this update took so long. it's due to my computer crashing and deleting almost finished chapters + other stories i was working on (damn me and my tendency to not save often) and after that i just felt like everything i wrote was worse than what was deleted. i've also been sick, and just generally hating what i write more even more than usually. i've actually had this done for a couple of days and not posted bc i hated it so much😅 still do, but i decided just to post bc it has been waaay to long since i updated. 
> 
> sorry again! 
> 
> feedback always appreciated!


	7. A Pattern of Observation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait!

Jisung hated it. Hated that he had gotten himself involved again. Hated that he had finally pulled himself out of his borderline obsession with Minho – who was still virtually a stranger – ‘s wellbeing, only to allow himself to be dragged right back in.

If he had been smarter, he would have just kept walking. If he had been smarter, he would have kept his mouth shut.

Then again, had he been smarter, Minho might still be suffering alone.

_Fuck._

Groaning, Jisung dropped his head to the cafeteria table and hid his face in his arms. He still wasn’t too fond of the cafeteria – the constant buzz of noise was hard getting used to after spending most of his lunches in the library for a year – but the window had become too small once his singular ‘friend’ turned to a plural ‘friends’ back three weeks earlier. He was fully aware that they were looking at him, now that he had gone from simply being tuned out of the conversation completely to making actual noise.

“You  don’t get to complain about being tired.” Felix poked Jisung’s side. “You slept more than either of us. You didn’t even show up for class at all, since you overslept so bad.”

“You’re annoying. Is there a return policy on this friendship or something?” Jisung grumbled, swatting away Felix’s hand when he came to poke him a second time. “Besides, I’m not tired.”

Jisung didn’t have to look up to know Felix was grinning when he answered. “Policy only covers the two first weeks. You passed the deadline last Monday.”

“I don’t remember that being part of the contract. I had no clue it expired so quickly.”

“Fine print.”

Jisung pulled himself off the table, allowing his mind to drift a little further away from Minho. “Did you know about this Seungmin? I think we were scammed.”

“Oh, we most definitely were. Knew there was something fishy about that contract. Don’t know why we thought it would be a good idea to adopt a stray.”

“Excuse you, I am the best idea you ever had,” Felix said, snatching Seungmin’s bag of chips away from him and offering it to Jisung instead. When Jisung shook his head he reluctantly returned it. “What are you complaining about then, if not tiredness?”

Jisung’s gaze only drifted across the room and to Minho’s table for a second, but when he looked back, he could tell Seungmin had caught it. “Oh, it’s nothing.” But his mood had already dropped again, mind back in the dark classroom with Minho. “I guess I’m just tired after all.”

Seungmin hesitated for a moment, eyes meeting Jisung’s as they both ignored Felix dramatically throwing his hands up in the air acting all betrayed _(“I can never believe anything you say ever again.”)_.

“You see, the thing about Jisung is that – “

For a second Jisung worried that Seungmin was going to tell Felix about (what he believed to be) Jisung’s crush on Minho.

“ – he is chronically stupid. It is incurable. We just have to learn to live with it.”

Jisung didn’t miss the look Seungmin sent him as the conversation moved on and he tuned back out, but he did his best to ignore it. Whatever Seungmin believed he had figured out was bothering him wasn’t it anyways.

More than anything, Jisung hated that he couldn’t tell him what it actually was.

 

There was no doubt Seungmin was observant. Jisung knew he had caught it when he was looking at Minho in the cafeteria, and he was pretty sure he’d seen noticed when his eyes briefly brushed past Minho’s locker at the end of the day. And the next morning, when Jisung lost his train of thought and stopped talking mid-sentence just as Minho walked past, it was obvious Seungmin didn’t think it was a coincidence.

But he didn’t mention it. Instead, he continued conversation like he normally would, opting to answer in Jisung’s place whenever the boy got distracted and forgot to answer something Felix had said.

 

It was only three days later, when Jisung had stopped worrying about having to explain it, Seungmin brought it up. It wasn’t subtle or careful, and he spent no time easing it into a conversation naturally, and Jisung had no way to anticipate it and no time to come up with a good deflection to the topic.

“So, you’ve started the stalking again,” Seungmin said, his voice completely flat, as Felix disappeared around a corner down the hall. It wasn’t a question, just a statement.  “I thought you were over it.”

It took Jisung a moment to answer, confusion then panic passing through his mind. “I’m not stalking anyone.”

“Sure you are. Felix might be oblivious to it, but I know what to look for. I was there last time around, remember?”

“I don’t have a crush on him.” Jisung pushed his locker shut, before reluctantly turning to Seungmin. “And I’m not stalking him.”

“Even _if_ that first statement is true, the second definitely isn’t. You _are_ watching again.”

Jisung wasn’t sure how to answer to that, so he just readjusted the grip on his books and looked down the hallway. “The bell is gonna ring soon.”

“It’s just… you seem worried, like something bothering you, and it seems to be about him.”

Jisung didn’t look at him. Didn’t know what he would end up saying – what he would give away – if he did.  

Seungmin sighed. “You’re right. We really should  be getting to class.”

 

Some days Jisung had a hard time remembering why he had committed to helping in the kindergarten. He didn’t spend more than a couple of hours there a week, but it could be tiring, leave you with the worst headaches, and make you question if kids were actual demons. Other days, Jisung had no trouble remembering at all. Cause for every bad moment, there were ten great ones. For every tantrum thrown, there was a weird but sweet comment that only a child would make, or a gesture super bizarre but surprisingly considerate.

Either way – whether they were angels or demons –  they were usually a great distraction.

There was a shortage of staff that Friday, after multiple staff members had called in sick, so when Jisung showed up after school, he instantly had a lot to do. It was nice, as it left him no time to think about his conversation with Seungmin earlier that day, or about Minho and all the stupid things he had said a couple of days prior.

“NO FAIR, GIVE IT BACK!”

But he was definitely going to have a headache by the time he left.

 

After running around playing outside for a while, Jisung ended up inside with a couple of kids drawing. He often ended up there once his energy ran out, as there was always a handful of kids there, and whoever was watching over them was usually more than happy to leave – you could only be asked where the purple crayon is so many times before actually going insane – and move on to a different play area.

There was a total of six kids there when he got there, but the number quickly rose once as news got out that Jisung was there. A couple had news about their turtles, which Jisung answered to with a standard response – “Wow, you kept the turtle so happy! That’s awesome!” – and a couple just had drawing requests for him. He wasn’t the best at drawing, but he never turned down any of their ridiculous requests, and they always found the results hilarious.

He was in the middle of drawing a penguin on a unicycle when yet another kid entered the room, sitting down next to him without a word. It took Jisung a moment to realize that the quiet little girl was the usually bubbly Jiwoo, who had never once really shut up as long as he’d known her.

“Hey Jiwoo,” he said as he tried his best to figure out how a penguin would sit on a unicycle. “What’s up?”

She didn’t answer at first, instead lifting her arm onto the table, so he could clearly see her arm and the _very_ smudged turtle on it. It was clear that she had tried to wash it off.  

“What happened with Bella?”

“I made her very sad, so I thought she might want to leave.”

Jisung stopped drawing, turning to face her completely. “Jiwoo, you have been so good at making her happy, why would she want to leave because you made her sad once?”

Jiwoo just shrugged, eyes fixated on the smudge that was once a turtle.

“I don’t think she would leave that easily. Come here.” Jisung pen he’d been using to draw the penguin and found a marker instead. “You just do your best to make her happy again.”

A smile grew on her face as Jisung drew a new turtle on her arm, slightly further down than where the last one had been.

“See? She just took a stroll down your arm to clear her thoughts. She didn’t leave.”

“I’ll make her happy enough for a crown _and_ a magic fairy wand again. You’ll see.”

 

That evening Jisung went to bed associating the turtles with the kids in the kindergarten rather than with Minho. It was something he hadn’t done in a long time – even after his fixation with the boy had ended the turtles would briefly bring him to mind every time he saw them. It felt nice, but Jisung knew Seungmin was right. Whether or not he wanted to admit it to Seungmin, he was “stalking” again. His interaction with Minho had him falling into the same pattern of observing the boy from a distance, paying more attention to him, and worrying about him that had taken him so long to get over the first time around. And as much as he wanted to, he doubted the weekend would be enough to pull himself out of it again.

 

He made an effort to not look in the direction of Minho’s locker Monday morning – _just check if he’s there, and not alone in some classroom again_ – ignoring his impulse to turn to look. Instead, Jisung smiled and talked to his friends like he always did, before they all went their separate ways as the bell rang.

At lunch, he told them he was going to the library to study, which resulted in a look from Seungmin that he promptly ignored – why did his friend have to be so damn observant? – and both of them ditching the cafeteria to join him. Felix and Seungmin ended up in the window, while Jisung sat leaning up against the bookshelf. Not much studying was done as they frustrated the librarian to no end with their “hushed” conversation.

 

Tuesday they were back in the cafeteria – Jisung was afraid Felix would start picking up on something being wrong if they kept going to the library – but he sat down at the other side of the table, meaning he would have to fully turn around to even look in Minho’s direction. There was no way he could do that subtly, which made it a lot easier to stop himself from doing it.

 This meant he actually managed to keep his focus on the conversation at hand, as he wasn’t as distracted. Apparently, with his mind so preoccupied, he had completely missed Felix’s newfound interest in one of the older students, which became very clear to him as his friend stopped to stare when the older boy came into the cafeteria.

It was a lot like what he did himself, when he was looking at Minho, and Jisung could see why Seungmin had mistaken it as a crush. He was pretty sure his eyes didn’t light up the same way as Felix’s did though. Seungmin had also said he looked bothered, and Felix definitely did not look bothered.

 

They left the cafeteria about twenty minutes before lunch was over, deciding it was better to get the stuff they needed from their lockers before they would have to fight their way through a horde of students to do so.

There was still another fifteen minutes to before the bell was due to ring, and they were standing in front of Felix’s locker when Seungmin’s eyes drifted to something behind Jisung. Jisung didn’t think much of it until a confused look crossed his friend’s face, and he turned around to see what he was looking at.

Minho.

Minho walking towards them.

“I need to talk to you.” Was all he said before he grabbed Jisung’s wrist and pulled him away from his friends.

Jisung looked back at his friends, shrugging and meeting their confused looks with one equally confused, before turning back around to see where they were going. They passed by several classrooms before Minho abruptly stopped in front of one, pushing the door open and stepping in.

The room was dark and empty, and Jisung found himself wondering if the older kept track of which classrooms were in use when, or if he’d just been lucky to find an empty one again. He didn’t say anything, unsure why the older had pulled him with him in the first place.

Then he heard it, the quiet sharp breath, and then he noticed that Minho was holding onto his wrist way tighter than he had been just a moment before – probably trying his best to keep his hand from shaking.  

Jisung’s words rang through the room even though no one had said them.

_So you don’t have to pretend. At least not around me._

The world fell quiet, and for a moment it felt like the room itself was holding its breath. Then Minho turned to face him, eyes rapidly filling with tears.

“I don’t want to pretend."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, again, sorry for taking so long between updates, i have been sick for like the past two weeks after i went to the stray kids concert in berlin and got caught in the rain before the concert (it was totally worth it though! the concert was amazing!) and my brain has been very sluggish😅 i start school again in literally 8 hours, so why the hell i decided this was a good time to write instead of sleeping is beyond me, but here we are! hopefully, the chapter is decent even though i am sleep-deprived😅
> 
> but oooh, stuff is happening! jisung and minho are actually interacting again! whaaaaat
> 
> also i don't know how many of you (if any of you) remember little Jiwoo from the first chapter, but i decided why not have her make another appearance. cause why not. 
> 
> feedback is always appreciated! kudos, and especially comments, makes me happier than you could imagine! i love hearing your thoughts!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, I may have written all this in one sitting while completely sleep-deprived and neglecting my schoolwork while doing so, and no, I didn't proofread or edit, so this might be a shitstorm, who knows, but i couldn't not post today, so here we go

Minho wished he had some sort of grasp of what his triggers were. There were some quite obvious ones – some more easily avoided than others – but for the most part, he had a hard time pinpointing just what it was that had pushed him whenever he went over the edge.

It hadn’t always been like that. While he had always been an anxious kid, it was only in recent years it had gotten really bad. Where panic attacks once were few and far and far in-between, they were now frequent enough to feel never-ending.

There had been a time when he had to be dragged kicking and screaming to the edge; a time when it took a lot to send him hurtling over the edge. These days he never seemed to stray far from it; always balancing on the verge of a breakdown, and all it took to send him over was a single wrong step.

 

Minho didn’t know what it was about Jisung that he found so reassuring, but once the boy left the classroom, Minho felt better than he had in a while.

_So you don’t have to pretend. At least not around me._

He should by all mean have been feeling a lot worse. Not once, but twice had Jisung found him mid breakdown, and he had inadvertently shared a part of himself with the boy that he had never wanted anyone to see. He should be feeling panicked.

He still didn’t understand why the younger was so nice to him; so willing to help. Had he ever stumbled across himself like that, he would have turned around and not looked back. Left him to deal with it himself. Minho couldn’t wrap his head around why the younger boy wasn’t doing the same, and why he, for better or worse, seemed to genuinely care.

And while Minho had used to hate the idea of someone knowing – while he still would never willingly give up the information to anyone – there was something comforting about Jisung knowing.

It was just a little less lonely.

 

Over the next couple of days, Minho got used to Jisung being there. Not with him – _never_ with him – but close by. A couple of tables away in the cafeteria at lunch, by his locker talking with his friends, or walking past him down the hallway on his way to class.

Minho knew the boy was watching him again – he caught him looking a couple of times – but this time around he didn’t mind. He was pretty sure he was looking more to Jisung than Jisung was to him anyways.

If any of his friends noticed this, they didn’t mention it.

 

Monday Jisung wasn’t in the cafeteria at lunch. At first, Minho thought maybe he was just running late, but then 5 minutes passed, then 10, and by the time 15 minutes had passed, Minho accepted that Jisung wasn’t coming.

It shouldn’t have been a big deal – he didn’t ever talk to him anyways – but he could instantly feel the familiar tightening in his chest, and it felt like something shattered.

_Smiling, happy, fine._

It must have taken him a second too long to compose himself; a second too long for his smile to reappear again, cause once he pulled his eyes away from Jisung’s usual table again, Woojin was watching him with worried eyes.

_Smiling, happy, fine._

Minho just smiled at him; a silent promise – a silent lie – that he was okay, all while internally cursing himself for letting him see – it had been happening too often lately – before ignoring the look and trying to make it seem like he was listening to the discussion Chan and Hyunjin were having.

He hadn’t realized just how reliant he had become on Jisung’s presence over the last couple of days. How reliant he had become on the idea of not pretending – even if he wasn’t doing anything about it.

 

Tuesday Jisung was back in the cafeteria, and while it should have made him feel better, Minho only felt worse.

Minho knew he was staring. Staring too much. Enough for Chan to notice.

_Smiling._

Enough for Woojin to notice.

 _Happy_.

Enough for Hyunjin to notice.

_Fine._

But he couldn’t seem to stop. Jisung wasn’t looking his way though. Was too busy talking to his friends. Too busy, too busy, _too busy._

Minho wasn’t sure what he was thinking when Jisung got up and he followed.

He wasn’t sure what he doing when he walked up to him and his friends – “I need to talk to you.” – and pulled the very confused boy with him.

He wasn’t sure what he was feeling when he pulled him into an empty classroom, breathing becoming more difficult by the second. “I don’t want to pretend.”

And he certainly wasn’t sure how to react when he was pulled into a hug.

 

It had taken Minho a second to hug back, but when he did, he did so so tightly he was worried he might be crushing the smaller boy. Jisung didn’t more or pull away though, instead hugging the older boy tighter as well. Minho didn’t know how long they just stood there hugging, but Jisung didn’t let go of him until his breathing evened out and his grip of the younger loosened.

“I’m glad you came and got me.”

Minho nodded slightly and sat down, still feeling a little shaky. “Thanks for coming with me.”

“You kinda didn’t give me a choice.” Jisung smiled, sitting down a desk across from him. “But I would have come anyways.”

Minho smiled at that. “Thank you.”

“Can I ask you a question?” Jisung asked, suddenly looking a little uncomfortable. When Minho didn’t say anything, he continued. “Does any of your friends know? About, you know. “ Jisung gestured at nothing in particular, clearly not sure how to phrase his question.

Minho shook his head. “No, and I don’t want them to.”

Jisung nodded, more to himself than to Minho. “Your parents?”

“No.”

“Anyone?”

“I think my cats might have witnessed it a couple of times.” Minho knew Jisung wasn’t looking for a jokey answer, but he was used to hiding and deflecting whenever he got uncomfortable. “But no. Not really.”

Jisung nodded again, an unreadable expression on his face. “Just me then.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Jisung smiled at him. “Maybe an untraditional start of a friendship, but oh well.”

“We’re friends?”

 

“Well, I sure hope so. If not that hug would be _very_ awkward.”

Neither of them made a move to leave until the bell rang again, signaling the end of a class neither of them had attended. They left the classroom together as students started milling into the halls, and Minho didn’t miss the blatant stares from Jisungs friends, or how his own were trying – and failing – to inconspicuously look in their direction.

_Well, fuck._

“Give me your phone,” Jisung said, either oblivious or indifferent to the question marks that were his friends. “It might e easier to, you know, text or call, rather than track me down and kidnap me in the hallway.”

Minho wordlessly handed him his phone and watched him save his number, muttering a quick ‘bye’ as he disappeared towards his friends, who seemed to immediately bombard him with questions. Minho wished he knew what he was telling them, cause he had no idea what to tell his own friends.

Hyunjin wasted no time latching on to his arm when he got to them. “Was that Han Jisung?”

“How do you-“

“I have English with him.”

Minho just nodded. “Yeah, that was him.”

“And?”

Every lie Minho could have possibly told to explain what had happened vanished from his brain, and he had no clue what to say.

“And,” Woojin said, “you have to get to said English class. It’s on the other side of the school. You should get going.”

Minho wasn’t sure if he was cutting in to save him from having to answer, or if he was actually worried that Hyunjin would be late to class, but he was thankful nonetheless.

Hyunjin looked like he wanted to protest but ended up disappearing down the hallway without another word. It took Minho a moment to realize that Chan and Woojin were both looking at him, both clearly wanting the answer to the question that only Hyunjin had voiced, but neither of them said anything as Minho muttered something about having to get to class.

He could deal with that later.

 

While he probably should have, Minho was not expecting Hyunjin to arrive at lunch dragging both of Jisung’s friends with him, Jisung following behind looking a shade or two redder than normal.

“Minho masterfully avoided having to answer my questions yesterday, so naturally, I asked Jisung and his friends if they wanted to sit with us at lunch.”

Minho couldn’t quite discern if Chan and Woojin looked disappointed at Hyunjin or just very amused at the development of the situation.

“Jisung’s friends, Seungmin and Felix, apparently didn’t get many answers either, so they were more than happy to come.” Hyunjin sat down, clearly very happy with himself, and gestured for the three newcomers to sit down as well.

Minho expected Hyunjin to start asking more questions, either to him or to Jisung, but instead he started chatting with Felix and Seungmin like he hadn’t first talked to them purely to get the answers Minho hadn’t given him.

Eventually, Jisung started to relax joined the conversation, and soon all of them were talking like they were old friends, while Minho just stared at them, completely perplexed, not sure how to process what was happening.

Occasionally Jisung would look over at him, but it wasn’t until lunch was almost over that anyone actually spoke directly to him, catching him off guard completely.

“Okay, I’m still kinda curious though. What’s going on with you and Jisung? You kind of kidnapped Jisung for an entire period yesterday.”

It was Felix who had asked, and while the question wasn’t a difficult one, Minho had no clue how to answer. The moment in which he was supposed to answer passed, and as no one said anything, Minho could feel himself panicking as he tried to think of a good lie. “He’s my boyfriend.”

_Well shit, that’s not it._

It took the table a second to process what he had said, and when it did, Jisung chocked on his water, almost spitting it out on all of them, sending him into a coughing fit, and there were several noises of complete surprise.

_Literally anything else would have been better._

Chan was the first to say anything. “You sure?” He laughed, completely unaware that Minho was freaking out internally, struggling not to let the panic show on his face. “Cause Jisung seemed kinda surprised there.”

_Anything else. **Anything.**_

“No,” Jisung jumped in before Minho could come up with an answer. “I just – I didn’t know we were using labels already.”

Jisung’s eyes were wide, and he looked like a deer caught in headlights, absolutely horrified, but he was still backing up Minho’s lie. Minho hated himself for failing to come up with a good excuse when he was put on the spot, hated that he had now gotten Jisung caught up in an even bigger lie.

Before anyone got a chance to ask any more questions, the bell rang, and everyone scattered to get to their classes, leaving the two of them alone.

“Don’t worry about it.” Jisung said before Minho could even begin to think of something to say. “Really, it’s okay.” His smile seemed a little strained and he looked like he was still processing what had happened as he started to get up. “I have to go now, we’ll figure out how to deal with this later, okay?”

He left without another word, and though he had backed up Minho’s lie and said it was okay, Minho couldn’t help but feel like he had fucked up something good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hopefully there weren't too many errors, and it all made some sense, cause like i said, i wrote this very sleep-deprived and didn't proofread before posting haha. i'm gonna try to get something up again soon enough, but i can't keep neglecting schoolwork forever, so no promises!
> 
> feedback, kudos, and comments are greatly appreciated!


	9. Chapter 9

 

Jisung had been in a haze when he left Minho in the cafeteria. His thoughts moved slowly, blurred and distorted, making little to no sense and his mind hadn’t quite had the time to catch up with what had just happened. He hadn’t even fully realized what Minho had said before he jumped in to back him up, and he certainly hadn’t been able to think over what the lie would entail.

Actively telling a lie was much different than just hiding a truth.

Jisung didn’t blame Minho. He couldn’t really; Minho might have been the first one to say it, but Jisung had told the same lie in the end. Besides, if he had been the one who was put on the spot like that, he probably would have come up with something equally stupid. He’d had a hard enough time evading Seungmin’s questions when they were alone, he couldn’t even imagine how he would have felt if someone had asked him with so many people there.

He spent his free period in the kindergarten trying to get out of his own head enough to keep up with the kids. It was harder than he thought it’d be – especially with text after text coming in from his friends asking about what had happened at lunch – and by the time he got back to school, he still hadn’t really snapped out of it.

The texts were all left unanswered; Jisung needed to talk to Minho before he could. If he started answering questions before he figured out what the hell he was supposed to be saying, he’d just dig them both into a deeper hole than the one they were already in. They could probably both get out of this, but if they didn’t talk to each other about it, they were bound to hit a wall; say something too far fetched or contradictory.

Jisung didn’t open the texts from Seungmin or Felix, but he did open the text from Minho right when he saw it in the middle of history.

_Hey, it’s Minho. You said we would_  
talk about it later. How much later  
were you thinking?

_i’m done at 15, meet outside?_

_See you then._

Jisung put down his phone and tried to focus on the rest of his class.

 

It didn’t take him long to locate Minho when he walked out of class. The older boy was standing by the main entrance, leaning up against a locker – it wasn’t his own, Jisung knew that much, but he had no clue who it belonged to –  and talking to his friends. There was a smile on his face, and he seemed to be laughing at something.

Hyunjin saw him first, smiling at him before turning to Minho to say something. It was too loud in the hallway and Jisung was still too far away to hear what he said, but whatever it was, resulted in laughter from Chan and Woojin, and Minho pushing him away.

Minho ushered his friends to leave when he came closer – probably to stop Hyunjin from repeating whatever he had said within earshot of him – and by the time Jisung had successfully snaked his way through the students trying to leave, they had been swallowed by the crowd.

Minho’s smile had disappeared with his friends, and he looked absolutely exhausted. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not mad at you,” Jisung said because if he was Minho, that’s what he would have been stressing about. “You just blindsided me, that’s all.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“So did you want to talk here, or?”

Minho shook his head, gesturing around them. “There’s a lot of people here. We could go to my place; my parents won’t be home before late.” His smile reappeared then, and though Jisung knew it was only because there were people around, he had a hard time convincing his brain it wasn’t real.   

“First you go and make me your boyfriend, then you invite me to your house when no one is home. If I didn’t know any better-“

“Oh, shut up.”

Jisung hoped the smile that came with it was a little more real than the rest.

 

They were greeted by a cat at the door.

“Don’t let her out,” Minho said, blocking her path with his foot before bending down and picking her up. “She’s just pretending to say hi. She’s trying to sneak out the door.”

Jisung knew Minho was dragging out the time, clearly uncomfortable with bringing up what they were there to talk about. Jisung decided to let him. “Does she do that a lot?”

“All the time.” Jisung didn’t miss the relieved breath Minho let out as he spoke. “I think she has convinced herself the outside world is this wonderful place.”

“So she’s delusional.”

Minho pushed the door shut with his foot. “Absolutely.” He put the cat down again, watching as it ran off again before he walked further into the apartment.

Jisung wasn’t sure how long he was supposed to let Minho avoid the conversation, so he just followed behind, silently observing the interior of the apartment.

Pictures lined the walls – a small Minho smiling up at the camera with his front tooth missing; a wedding photo; a toddler Minho with an elderly couple – and a faded children drawings scribbled on the walls under them. Some of the drawings were partially painted over, but it seemed that whoever had tried covering them up had changed their mind – or maybe given up when new drawings appeared.

There were two discarded coffee cups on the table in the living room, accompanied by a book, a couple of magazines and a bunch of different remotes that Jisung couldn’t imagine all belonged to the TV. There were water and food bowls for the cats pushed up against the wall, small bits of kibble spilled out on the floor around them.  Blankets and pillows littered the couch, and there was a cat sleeping on it, leaving orange fur everywhere. There was a cat tree in the corner, and it somehow seemed to be the piece of furniture with the least amount of fur on it.

Lines were scratched into the doorway in the kitchen, tracking Minho’s growth throughout the years. Remarkably there seemed to be a line from the previous year – Jisung had always thought that it was something people stopped doing when their children were still, well _children_.

Jisung wasn’t exactly sure _what_ he had been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this. It was homey, _lived in._ He had a hard time figuring out just how Minho fit into it all – the place seemed much more alive than Minho was most of the time; more real than the boy allowed himself to be.

“You hungry?”

“Huh?” Jisung tore his eyes away from the lines and to Minho, who was awkwardly standing in the middle of the kitchen staring at him. He hadn’t even realized he had stopped paying attention to him. “Uh, no I’m good.”

Jisung was pretty sure that the older boy was stressed, but it was hard to tell what he was feeling most of the time; hard to see which emotions were real and which weren’t. Minho studied him for a second as if he was trying to figure out what he was thinking, before he shrugged, and grabbed a box of cookies from one of the cupboards anyway and left the room again.

Jisung lingered for a second, staring at the lines in the doorway, before he followed him wondering if Minho ever was – if he ever had been – as alive as his home was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kinda short, kinda uneventful, but oh well. hopefully you enjoyed it! i will try to get something spooky (as in halloween themed) up next week. i have a plan for it, so hopefully i'll have the time to write it too, cause i really want some halloween here. 
> 
> thanks for reading! kudos, comments and feedback is always appreciated! i always get super happy whenever i get a new comment, it seriously makes my day!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so it's the 31st for like another 15 minutes where i live, so i technically kept my promise about posting on halloween!

Minho never had to be alone.

There had never been a lack of people in his life. He had always had countless friends; people who he could text to hang out with, and people whose houses he could show up to unannounced and stay at indefinitely if he wanted to. He never had to be alone.

And for the most part, he hadn’t been. As a child he had lived at playgrounds and with friends after school; exploring the woods with Chan, playing video games with Hyunjin, pitching a tent and going “camping” in Woojin’s living room. When he was at home, all his time had been spent with his parents in the living room. Puzzles, and dance contests, and make-believe. Never a moment alone. All his time spent with people.

It was hard to say just when people stopped seeing him. He wasn’t sure when he stopped letting them.

Minho didn’t know why he had decided to carry it all on his own. He had never given anyone the chance to choose to help; he had never told them when the world got too much – when it was crushing him and he just couldn’t breathe. Instead, he had let it build up, settling for hiding bits and pieces of himself as they broke, until there was more fake than real. Until he had ended up where he was now; the majority of his time spent behind some mask or another; looked at but rarely seen.

Yet sometimes, his friends seemed to see him anyways, just a little bit better than anyone else;

Chan often had more to say the days Minho felt like saying less, and he often seemed to take a little more space the times Minho didn’t want any.

Hyunjin was often extra huggy on the days Minho needed closeness the most, and often opted cling to someone else the times Minho’s body repelled touch.

Woojin often turned his attention elsewhere when Minho didn’t want it, and he would often switch topics when Minho felt like one more question would cause his mask to crack.

Minho was pretty sure this was all done subconsciously; that while they themselves weren’t aware of it, they on some level knew when something was wrong and adjusted accordingly. Of course they all missed the mark completely sometimes – Chan would bring him into conversation and he would feel like running away, Hyunjin would hug him and he would feel like puking, and Woojin would look at him at he would feel like crying there and then – but it wasn’t their fault he was hiding it, and he was grateful for them anyway.

 

Then there was Jisung. Jisung who saw him broken and chose to help before Minho had a chance to hide away. Jisung who knew he was faking it and decided he was worth the effort anyway. Jisung who was virtually a stranger and the person who saw him the most clearly.

Jisung who was currently sitting on his bed and looking around his bedroom like he was analyzing it.

Minho was aware he had been doing it since they entered the apartment. He had first noticed it after Dori had run off into the apartment again, effectively ending their short-lived conversation about the cat. Jisung had gone silent, looking around like he was trying to figure something out. Minho had tried to tell himself he was imagining, but for every moment that passed it became more obvious that he was actually doing it.

Minho wasn’t sure what he was trying to figure out, but it had left him feeling weird. It was strange, having the younger boy in his home _._ He had grown accustomed to hiding behind masks of fake smiles and laughter, and this felt quite opposite from it. Everything was out in the open, visible. _He_ could smile all he wanted; nothing in his home wore masks.

It left him feeling exposed. But that sounded stupid – _it’s just an apartment you idiot_ – so he didn’t say anything. Instead, he smiled, disregarded the look Jisung sent him when he did and tried to ignore the gnawing in his stomach and the voice in his head screaming at him to _get out get out get out._

 

They sat in silence for what felt like an eternity – Jisung looking around the room and Minho trying his best to make it seem like he wasn’t blatantly staring at him do so – before Jisung finally broke the silence.

“Minho.” Jisung was staring towards his bookshelf as he spoke. “We have to start talking eventually you know.”

“I’m personally fond of ignoring stuff until it goes away.”

Jisung smiled at that, turning to face him. “I don’t go away though. I’m annoying like that.”

“Well shoot.” Hadn’t he been so unbearably stressed, the smile that followed might even have been real. “I meant the conversation.”

“That…” Jisung eyebrows furrowed, and his voice was careful as he continued. “That isn’t going away either.”

“I know.”

There was a beat of silence in which Jisung was meant to answer or in which he was meant to continue, where they just stared at each other.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Minho–“

“I don’t know what I was thinking, I _wasn’t_ thinking, I panicked and I didn’t know what to say and then I said _that_ and I couldn’t take it back and I don’t know anything about you what if you were in an actual relationship I could have fucked that up and –“

“Minho.”

 “ – oh my god I just made you gay, I can’t just go around making people gay, your friends could have been homophobic _you_ could have been homophobic and oh god what if this gets back to your parents and _they_ _are_ homophobic and –“

“Minho, _stop._ ” Jisung reached out and grabbed his hands. “Breathe.”

It was only then Minho realized how labored his breathing was becoming and that his hands were shaking against Jisung’s unmoving ones.

“No one is homophobic,” Jisung spoke slowly, maintaining eye contact as he did. “Well, that’s a lie. A lot of people are homophobic.”

Minho blinked at him and his hands were still shaking, but he didn’t say anything.

“But my friends are not. Felix literally has a crush on a guy and Seungmin has thought I was crushing on you for a while. He doesn’t care.” Jisung smiled carefully at him. “Also, he called your friend hot, so I’m pretty sure he’s not completely straight either, but that might just be me reading into it.”

Minho tried to smile back at him, and although it came out as more of a grimace, his heartbeat was slowing down, and breathing returning to normal. “Which one?”

“I didn’t ask.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Okay, so how long have we been dating?”

They stayed like that for a while, hashing out the details of their fake relationship, and neither of them would realize they were still holding hands until Jisung had to leave.

 

 

Minho managed to avoid his friends until lunch. He had planned on hiding from them the entire day, but Hyunjin had caught him and dragged him along to the cafeteria. Chan and Woojin were already there, along with Jisung and his friends.

“You should’ve known he wouldn’t let you avoid him questions forever,” Chan said as Hyunjin pushed him into a chair next to Jisung. “He wouldn’t shut up yesterday when you ignored his texts.”

“Yes.” Hyunjin plopped down on his other side. “That was very rude by the way.”

Minho shrugged and smiled at him. “I have always been rude though. You know this.”

Hyunjin decided to respond to this by leaning across Minho and grabbing Jisung’s hand. “Jisung, it’s not too late. You can still dump him and run away with me.”

“I’m right here you know,” Minho said as he was pushed back by Hyunjin as the boy reached for Jisung.

Jisung just laughed and pulled his arm away. “No thanks, but good to know I have options.”

“Okay, wow, your loss.” Hyunjin sat back up straight and huffed. “You’re coming to the Halloween party, right? I’ll win you over there.”

“The Halloween party?” Jisung looked at Minho, discomfort clear in his eyes. They hadn’t discussed this.

“Yeah, that guy over there,” Chan said, pointing at a senior at another table, “he has these huge parties every year. We only went last year, but it was fun. You guys should come.”

“I don’t have a costume though.”

“Wear red. I’ll bring you horns. Boom you’re a demon. Problem solved. You two?” Hyunjin looked at Seungmin and Felix, who had both been silently watching the conversation from the side.

Felix shrugged. “Sorry, I am kinda behind on an assignment.”

“And I…” Seungmin trailed off, looking at Jisung, who was vigorously nodding and then at the others. “Well. I just don’t wanna.”

Jisung sent him a look of utter betrayal.

“Okay, Jisung it is!”

Minho left Jisung to answer the rest of the questions that came up during lunch, occasionally coming with input in other conversations that came up. He was bringing Jisung to a party.

He was bringing his ‘boyfriend’ to a party.

_Fuck._

Minho wouldn’t have thought he was up for a party when he woke up that morning. He certainly hadn’t thought he was up for a party when it was brought up at lunch. Hell, he hadn’t even thought he was up for a party half an hour earlier when Chan had pulled up in front of his apartment to pick him up.

Yet, he was having a good time.

Jisung had shown up to his place a little while before Chan was set to pick them up there, and just like Hyunjin had told him to, he was wearing all read. The boy was clearly nervous, and unlike Minho, he had not bothered to cover it up with faux excitement. It had Minho feeling even worse about it all – Jisung was just there because of him after all.

Chan’s car had shown up ten minutes later, and Hyunjin had wasted no time throwing a pair of cheap red horns through the open window and in Jisung’s face, completing his demon getup. The rest of them had similar low effort costumes; all thrown together last minute even though they had all known they were going for weeks.

Chan was a vampire, which pretty much meant he was dressed in his usual black clothes, the only actual difference from his normal wardrobe a set of pointy fangs and red contact lenses, Woojin had put on a pair of glasses and a button-up shirt (“I’m a teacher,” he had said when asked), and Hyunjin had settled for wearing all white and a halo (Minho did ask, and yes, he had purposely made Jisung match his costume.) Minho wore black a black hoodie, cat ears and had drawn on whiskers.

Jisung had gotten increasingly restless on the short car ride over but still seemed to genuinely enjoy the relaxed atmosphere in the car.

It was probably this atmosphere that had Minho unwind enough for his smile to be real by the time they got to the party.

There were a lot of people, some in elaborate costumes, and some who had put even less effort into their costumes than they had. The music was obnoxiously loud, and people were already drinking and drunk. Yet, Minho didn’t actually mind.

He didn’t mind the loud music or the clammy heat that came with too many people in the same space. He didn't mind talking to people in various stages of drunkenness, or the way Jisung clung to his arm for the first half-hour of the party before he too seemed to start relaxing a little more.

There was candy everywhere, and all other snacks were either pumpkin flavored or pumpkin shaped. Some drunk girl dressed as a crayon was walking around sticking post-it notes on people, rating costumes on a scale from 1 to 10 (he got a 6, the word ‘meow’ scribbled out underneath it). He was having a good time, and for once the voice in his head didn’t come out to destroy it.

 

Then Hyunjin and Jisung disappeared into the crowd, Hyunjin set on finding and getting a higher score from the crayon when she saw the two of them together (“We might not be a couple, but our costumes are!”). And when he had turned back to Chan and Woojin after watching a confused Jisung be dragged off by Hyunjin, they had been gone too.

He had talked to some people, other classmates and people he knew from school, but he had constantly been looking around trying to spot one of his friends. The more time that passed, the tighter his chest got. The music became _too loud_ , the heat _too much_ , the people _too many_ and _too drunk_ , and it was becoming harder and harder to smile.

_Smiling, happy, fine._

Harder and harder to think.

_You need to get out. Get out, get out, get out._

Harder and harder to breathe.

He had almost made it to the door when someone grabbed his arm, and he was forced to turn around to face the person. He recognized the face of the girl in front of him, but his mind was too foggy to connect it to a name. _Smile._

“Hey, Minho! I haven’t seen you in ages!”

“Yeah!” He tried taking a step away from her, get a little bit further away. “It’s been too long!” His heart was beating uncomfortably fast and he wanted nothing more than the conversation to be over. “How have you been?”

“Oh, I’ve been good! What about you?”

 _go away go away go away_ please _go away_

Minho was about to give her a generic answer when someone suddenly appeared at his side, hugging on to his arm. He forced his muscles to relax as the girl smiled at him, nodding her head towards the newcomer as if asking, ‘who is this?’

“Minho, hey Minho.”

_Jisung._

“Hey, hey.” Jisung leaned on to him. “Isn’t my boyfriend pretty? Look at him! Isn’t he pretty?”

Minho didn’t miss the way Jisung’s words slurred together or the way he was leaning more and more on to him, clinging tighter to him.

“I think he’s very pretty, don’t you? Don’t you think he’s pretty?” He let out a small giggle as he spoke, smiling brightly at the girl in front of them.

She smiled back at him, before turning to Minho. “I think your boyfriend is drunk,” she finally said.

Jisung’s eyes went wide at this. “Minho, are you drunk?” Before Minho could even begin to figure out how he felt about the whole situation, Jisung spoke again, this time expression falling empty and exhausted. “Minho, I don’t feel good. Minho, can we leave?”

Minho sent an apologetic look at the girl, quickly saying bye, before he started towards the door again, this time with Jisung in tow. He was thankful that Jisung had gotten him out of a lengthy conversation with the girl, but his mind had now switched over to stressing about the younger boy.

Minho hadn’t seen him drink anything, so how much, or _what_ had he had in the short amount of time since he left his side?

Then, the second they were outside, Jisung let go of him and stopped leaning on him. “You okay?”

“What?”

“I’m sorry about that, but you looked stressed and then you switched, but I figured you were still stressed and couldn’t think of another way to get you out of there.”

Minho just stared at him with a blank expression. “You’re not drunk?”

“Obviously not. Did you see me drink anything tonight?”

Minho shook his head, trying to force his breathing to remain normal, and the tight feeling in his chest to disappear. But even through the closed door he could hear the music and the people and while it was cooler, he could still feel the clamminess from the heat inside on him.

“We don’t have to go back in. We can just leave.”  

Minho looked back towards the door. “But my friends.”

“You can tell them I wasn’t feeling well. They won’t blame you for leaving early to be a good boyfriend. Come on, let’s go. The bus stop is this way.”

Jisung started walking, and if he was surprised by Minho grabbing his hand when he followed, he didn’t show it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so if the scenes in this chapter feel rushed, it is because it is. due to everything that has happened with woojin leaving stray kids (and now also wonho leaving monsta x) i have not felt up for writing, and only remembered i had promised to write this a couple of hours ago. there was supposed to be more to the party, and we were not supposed to leave our boys where the chapter ended, but oh well. there is a little halloween at least. 
> 
> even though he's not a major character in this story, i just thought i'd clarify that i will continue to include woojin in this story, as he will always be a part of stray kids. 
> 
> i will also keep utdating like i before (as in extremely irregularly😅) so if there is some time before the next chapter is up, it's just my normal inner sloth taking over, and not me abandoning the work. i just thought i'd clarify that too, since i have seen a several people going on hiatus or discontinuing works with everything that has happened (something i completely understand too)
> 
> as always, kudos, comments and feedback are greatly appreciated. i love hearing your thoughts and just reading your comments in general!


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